


His Legacy

by blackberrywidow



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Iron Dad, Iron Family, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Pre-Iron Man 1, spider son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-07-28 05:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16235015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberrywidow/pseuds/blackberrywidow
Summary: Tony Stark had never wanted to be a father-- had never wanted to risk passing on the Stark's legacy of absentee fathers and childhood trauma. But looking at his son now, swaddled tightly in his arms, he knew that he was always meant to be his father. Peter was the best thing to ever happen to him, and his would be the only legacy that mattered.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been wanting to write something like this for a while, and I finally made the leap to do it. I hope you liked it!  
> I'm still unsure if I want this to stand as just a short oneshot, or develop it further into a story that spans across the movies. So any thoughts or opinions would be appreciated!

“Mr. Stark,” Pepper said, peeking her head around the open door of his lab. “You have someone asking to speak with you.”

 

Tony glanced up from his current project and cocked a brow at his ever-so-faithful assistant. “That’s great, Ms. Potts, but as you can see…” he said, sweeping a grease-covered hand across his table, as though hundreds of pieces of machinery were a testament to his _very busy_ schedule. “I am unfortunately otherwise occupied at the moment.”

 

Pepper nodded and bit her lip in the way she did whenever she was nervous. Which was rare, so seeing her do it immediately brought Tony’s interest up from a 5 to a 60. “Of course, however, I would really recommend meeting with this particular person.”

 

“Oh,” Tony said, smile slowly stretching across his face, and he leaned back in his chair, raising two legs off of the floor. “And who would this ‘particular person’ be?”

 

“A… very pregnant woman. She says her name is Mary Parker.”

 

The smile slipped from his face and he came crashing back to the ground.

 

\---

 

Tony’s mind raced as he followed Pepper to the conference room where the woman, Mary, was waiting for him. Possibilities ran through his mind as he tried to find the one where this conversation didn’t end terribly for him.

 

Maybe she wasn’t really pregnant. Maybe the kid wasn’t his if she was. Maybe she needed money. Maybe she wanted to talk about funding for a project. He didn’t really remember much about her, truth be told, but he remembered that she was an intelligent woman that worked in some sort of lab. Maybe she was just here to fuck with him to as payback for not calling her.

 

_Maybe, maybe, maybe…_

“She’s in here, Tony,” Pepper said, though it was unnecessary. Tony could very clearly see her through the glass walls of the conference room. It was the first time he had seen her in about eight months, but she hadn’t changed much. Well, other than the…

 

Tony gulped. Well, she was definitely pregnant.

 

Mary’s swollen stomach seemed to swallow her as she paced about the room, hands resting on the bump as though she were drawing comfort from it.

 

Pepper nudged him, making him realize that he had frozen in the middle of the hallway and was openly staring at her in a mixture of awe and terror. “Go. In. There,” she hissed at him, giving him one last meaningful glance before hurrying back down the hallway.

Tony only stared for another second before taking a deep breath and walking to the door.  He had been in plenty of sticky situations before, and he knew that making assumptions wasn’t going to help him get out of this. Not that there was anything for him to _get out of_. Not yet anyway.

 

“Mary,” Tony said as he moved through the door, all pleasant smile and charm, as though he weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack. “How can I help you today?”

 

Mary whirled to face him, and Tony wondered if moving so quickly was healthy for the baby—he really could not stress enough how _little_ he knew about infants—but his inane thought process was quickly halted by the look on her face. As though she couldn’t believe he was dumb enough to say that. Not a look that he liked to see.

 

“We need to talk, Tony,” She said, hands still placed protectively on the swell of her stomach.

 

Tony nodded, still nothing but professional as he held out a chair for her and gestured for her to take a seat. Once she had, with an irritated huff and an annoyed look at him, Tony took a seat for himself. “Yes, I did gather that from your sudden appearance. You look great, by the way,” he hinted, eyes resting meaningfully on her stomach. He wasn’t usually so averse to beating around the bush—in fact, he was often a fan of drawing things out as much as possible—but this was an instance where he was eager to cut to the chase.

 

Mary, thankfully, took the hint. “Thanks, I hear pregnancy has a way of making you glow. Though all I notice is that carrying around an extra fifty pounds is uncomfortable and makes it difficult to sleep.”

 

Tony clenched his jaw, wishing she would just get to what she came here to say. Though he probably deserved the cold treatment. He wasn’t used to seeing his… lady companions after the night was over though, so this was new territory for him. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. How far along are you?”

 

She maintained eye contact, blue eyes piercing through him as she said, “Eight months.”

 

“And it’s…?” Tony trailed off, stomach dropping as his eyes moved back to focus on hers.

 

She sighed, hand moving off of the table to rest on her round stomach once more. “Yes, Tony. He’s your son.”

 

He felt numb. He felt untethered from reality as he scrambled to process what she had just said. He felt like he needed a drink.

 

“I know that I should have come to you about this sooner, but I… I knew that you wouldn’t want children. And I wanted to think that I could do this on my own. Raise a child and be a scientist. And I can, Tony. I will. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you have the right to at least know about him. To have the _option_ to be in his life, if that’s what you want.”

 

Tony’s eyes snapped up to hers, everything rushing back to him once the initial shock had started to ware off. “If that’s what I want?” he echoed.

 

Mary nodded, eyes fierce and determined as she stared him down. “But only if you’re going to commit to it, Tony. I know the kind of reputation you have—hell, that’s how we ended up here. So, there will be no absentee, alcoholic father that comes in and out of our lives as he pleases. If you decide to be a part of our son’s life, it’s all or nothing Tony. I won’t accept anything else.”

 

Tony understood what she was asking. Understood it well. If he were going to be a father, he would _be_ a father. He wouldn’t be allowed to make the same “parenting choices” that Howard did. All or nothing.

 

It was a commitment that Tony wasn’t sure he could make. Howard had left a lasting mark on his life; would he be able to do any better than his father? Shouldn’t they discuss things further? Wasn’t that how this usually worked? Was he even sure if the kid was _his_?

 

These were important questions, ones that he should at least ask. But he didn’t, because the only answer that mattered had been apparent from the moment Mary asked if this, his _son_ , was what he wanted.

 

“Okay. Yeah. What do I need to do?”  
  


Mary smiled, her eyes softening and her shoulders relaxing as though she had been carrying more than the extra baby weight up until now. “There’s a birthing class that I’m heading to in an hour. Do you want to start there?”  
  


Tony’s eyebrows shot up, the immediate answer of course being _no_ , but he had already made his decision. And he had always been a believer in diving right in, so why the hell not?

 

“Just lead the way.”  
  


\---

 

In the end, he only had three weeks to prepare for his new life as a father. Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy took the news better than he expected—in fact, he suspected that they had been preparing for something like this to happen for years. They helped him baby-proof his house and buy everything a child could want for. Helped him gather every bottle of alcohol he owned and pour them down the drain. Helped him just get his shit together in general.

 

He often caught them smiling at him time when he would talk about his unborn son, as though they were seeing him for the first. He knew they were proud of him for making the decision to be involved, to put his hang-ups behind him and make the right choice. It was a new feeling, and one that he hoped he could live up to.

 

The call came in the middle of a meeting, and he left without so much as a goodbye, calling Happy to drive him to the hospital, and then driving himself anyway because Happy drove too slowly.

 

He wasn’t in the room while Mary delivered their child, per her request. So, he was pacing in the hallway, scrolling on his phone occasionally, calling Pepper or Rhodey others, but always moving as he waited. He had never been a patient man, and he almost couldn’t believe that this was happening, that he was being given this opportunity to be better than his father, until he could hold his son in his arms.

 

He wasn’t ashamed to say that he cried when he did.

 

“His name is Peter,” Mary said, looking exhausted as she gently placed the tightly-swaddled baby in Tony’s waiting arms three hours later. “Peter Parker.”

 

They had discussed that before—that the baby would take her name. It had always been Mary’s intention, when she planned on raising him on her own. And Tony felt no connection to the Stark name, no need to carry on _that_ legacy. Besides, fuck the patriarchy, right?  
  


“Hey, Pete,” Tony cooed, not knowing why he was making the sounds he was but leaning into it. “God, aren’t you something?”

 

Peter was small, smaller than Tony had anticipated with his limited (i.e. nonexistent) experience with infants. He worried that one wrong move would end with him ruining yet another thing important to him, but as he looked down at his son’s resting face—unquestionably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—he knew that he would never let anything bad happen to this kid.

 

He was his son, and he would make sure that he knew he was loved and protected. He would be better, for Peter and for himself.

 

“He’s perfect,” he breathed, letting a few more tears fall, uncaring of who saw as he rocked his son in his arms.

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Okay, Pete, okay,” Tony cooed, bouncing his wailing son in his arms to no avail. “C’mon kid. I’m really trying here. Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?”  
  


“No, Tony,” Pepper said, breezing into his lab without looking up from the tablet in her hands. “He’s four months old—he won’t be able to talk until about ten months old, and he’ll probably be two before he can form full, coherent sentences. Speaking of which,” Pepper said, finally looking up to analyze the lab around her, “should he be down here?”

 

“When did you learn so much about babies?” Tony asked her, ignoring her question. He had babyproofed the lab—well, as much as one _could_ babyproof the lab of a weapons developer. Besides, it wasn’t like he was just letting the kid run around. He couldn’t even crawl yet.

 

Pepper’s attention suddenly refocused on the device in her hands as she replied. “I started researching childcare the day you told us the news. Lord knows you need all the help you can get.”

 

Tony’s lips quirked to the side and he raised his brows in exaggerated surprise at his son. “Can you believe it Petey Pie? Pepper doesn’t think that I could take care of you on my own!”

 

Peter finally decided to take a break from his crying, face slacking into a look of awe as he stared up at Tony’s face. Finding hope in this development, Tony contorted his face even more, making Peter squeal in delight. “Do you like that kid? Do you think my face is funny?”

 

“That, or he thinks you taking care of him on your own is as ridiculous as I do,” Pepper offered, though she was now watching her boss and his child with a fond smile.

 

“Well, it’s been four months and the kid’s still alive, so I’d say that I’m doing okay,” Tony protested, still making faces at Peter and trying to pretend that Pepper’s doubt didn’t sting.

 

 “You are handling this… much better than I expected. Though you can hardly claim full credit, between Mary, Ben and May, me and Rhodey…” Pepper trailed off when she noticed Tony’s smile start to strain at the edges. “But there’s no shame in needing help Tony.” Pepper gave him a meaningful look, trying to reassure him, though she rarely felt the need to fuel his typically enlarged ego. “Anyone would struggle balancing a family and running a company.”

 

“I’m not struggling,” Tony denied. “I think Mary and I have actually worked out a good schedule, especially since we both decided to forgo the whole nanny thing.”  
  
“Yes,” Pepper agreed drily, making Tony instantly apprehensive. “Which is why you agreed to watch Peter this afternoon, despite having a board meeting scheduled ten minutes from now.”

 

Tony blinked, his face relaxing back into normality as he turned to face Pepper. “But I’m watching Peter.”

 

Pepper rolled her eyes, unable to help herself. “Yes, I know. Which is why I’m here. I have the notes on the meeting all prepared here,” she said, holding up the tablet for emphasis, “so you can go to the meeting while I watch Peter for you.”

 

Tony hesitated, trying to decide what the right thing to do in this situation was (a question he had not contemplated much over the course of his life, but was becoming more and more frequent as of late) when Pepper saved him. “I’ve already checked with Mary—she’s given me her approval to watch Peter.”  
  


Tony relaxed, standing up to swap his son for the tablet, noting the hollow feeling in his chest when he passed Peter into Pepper’s waiting and capable arms. Pepper was one of the few people he trusted, and he knew she would never do anything to hurt Peter. And Mary’s approval was important, as he was making a conscious effort to care more about how his actions affected her as they would ultimately affect their son—not to mention he wanted to be on good terms with her to make getting visits with Peter easier.

 

But his hesitance was more than that. It was a feeling he got whenever he let Peter go. It was an uncomfortable sort of ache in his chest that warned him of all of the things that could go wrong. It was unpleasant, but welcome, if Tony were being honest. Because that feeling meant that Tony felt most comfortable with his newborn son safely in his arms, under his care—which meant that he was already a far better father than Howard had ever been.

 

Or at least he hoped so.

 

“And you’re sure you can handle him?” Tony asked, glancing up from the notes that Pepper had blessedly prepared for him. “I haven’t looked at your employment contract lately, but I’m fairly certain that it doesn’t say anything about babysitting.”

 

“I’m your assistant, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said, all business except for the gleam in her eye that promised mischief. “Babysitting was always understood to be an integral part of my job. At least Peter is cuter. Not to mention easier to handle.”

 

“You wound me,” Tony gasped, clutching his chest as he backed out of his lab. “That hurts, Ms. Potts.”

 

“Good,” she said with a grin as he backed out of the lab.

 

* * *

 

Tony was antsy, something he was used to, though it felt stronger now. He hated to admit it, but it was somewhat difficult to juggle being a dad and still overseeing his company. Especially with Obadiah breathing down his neck.

 

“Have somewhere else you’d rather be, Tony?” the CEO of Stark Industries and the closest thing Tony had to a father whispered, leaning over so that he was pressed against Tony’s side. “You should try to pay more attention. This is your legacy we’re discussing here.”

 

It wasn’t. Not anymore.

 

Tony didn’t respond, staring sightlessly ahead of him as he continued to drown out the talk of investments and mergers and all of the other business-related things that had never interested him.

 

Creating things—guns, bombs, missiles, it didn’t matter—that’s what he loved. He had a gift for creating things that destroyed life, and _that_ was going to be his legacy. It was one he was proud of—many people would say that he would never live up to his father, but one look at the destruction one of his weapons could cause would prove them wrong.

 

But none of that really mattered to him anymore, not the way it used to. He didn’t care for a legacy built on the destruction of life when he had _created_ one. A life that had become so much more precious to him than he thought anything possibly could—more valuable than his own life, and certainly more important than the company, the _legacy_ that Howard had built.

 

Peter was his legacy now, and he would be sure to leave his son with more than a billion-dollar company and memories of lonely, loveless childhood.

 

Stark Industries had never needed him for the business end of things anyway—he wasn’t the CEO, he was the engineer. So, he wasn’t sure why Obi had become even more tense and overbearing over the past four months.

 

“Excellent,” Tony said, instinctively noting the lull in the conversation and interjecting where he knew he was supposed to. He had a lifetime of experience slacking off to lean back on after all.  “Keep me posted on this, and I’ll, uh, keep making the weapons of mass destruction, as per usual.”

 

He got up from his seat, eager to head back down to his lab to spend what little time he had left with his son before Mary’s brother came to pick him up. He didn’t get very far though.

 

“Tony,” Obadiah called after him, hot on his heels. Tony turned to face him, doing little to mask the impatience on his face, and cocked a brow as Obi caught up to him and clapped a hand on his back. “Tony. What are you doing?”

 

“I’ve got a hot date with my assistant and son, what does it look like, Obi?”

 

“It looks like you just spent forty minutes half-assing an important meeting with nothing but your usual _charm_ and notes that were written for you. This isn’t college anymore Tony—you’re thirty-one years old for God’s sake. It’s time for you to realize that there are more important things than—”

 

“Than what?” Tony cut off, tone brittle and eyes narrowed. “Than my family?”

 

Obadiah sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes and looking as though he were praying for patience, before returning his hard gaze to Tony. “You had a kid Tony. But you still have this company to look after, and you can’t bullshit your way through it. Having a family never stopped your father from giving Stark Industries the attention it deserves—it shouldn’t get in your way either.”

 

Tony tensed, eyes going distant as Obi clapped him on the back a final time before leaving him standing in the hallway. It had been a long time before Obi had brought his father up to him like that—as an insult guaranteed to kick Tony’s ass into gear. It was usually effective. If there was one thing that Tony hated, it was being compared to Howard. And Obadiah knew that.

 

Tony trusted Obi more than anyone—he was the last connection he had to his family. He knew that he would do what was right for Stark Industries. But Tony knew that what was right for Stark Industries wasn’t what was right for Peter. He had a lifetime of disappointment from his father to attest to that.

 

He made his way back down to his lab, feeling numb. Hearing his father’s name—being compared to him—it still hurt him in ways that he knew shouldn’t after all this time. He needed to get his hands wrapped around some machinery. Or a beautiful woman—it didn’t matter. A drink wouldn’t hurt either. Anything to get his mind off of how much of a failure he was.

 

Obi was right. Tony was letting down his company, just like he had let down his father. He would never live up to Howard’s legacy. He would never be enough. He was—

 

“Look who it is, Peter! It’s your daddy!”

 

Tony’s head snapped up, eyes wild as the zeroed in on the squealing baby and the smiling woman holding him. He hadn’t even realized he had made it to his lab.

 

 “Do you wanna tell him what we did while he was working?”

 

Pepper’s attention was riveted on Peter, who had his tiny fist shoved into his mouth, so she didn’t notice the haunted look in Tony’s eyes as he stumbled closer to them. “What did you do?” he rasped, eyes zeroed on his son. His son who was grinning up at him despite the drool-covered fist in his mouth.

 

“Oh, we had lots of fun, didn’t we Petey? We rolled around on the floor a bit, watched some _lovely_ cartoons, learned that Daddy’s toys are not _our_ toys. All in all, we had an eventful hour. I think he missed you though,” Pepper reported with a twinkle in her eyes as she finally looked up at her boss.

 

Tony had a brief moment of panic, worried that he hadn’t fully prepared his mask of indifference for her, but it was unnecessary. Without him even realizing it, the past ten minutes of panic and stress had melted off of him. He was smiling at his son, who was smiling back at him and struggling to lift up his chubby arms towards him. Impossibly, Tony’s smile widened.

 

“Is that right?” Tony cooed, scooping down to pick his son up from where he was seated with Pepper. “Did you miss me, buddy?”

 

Peter made a high-pitched sound, as though he were confirming Tony’s question. “Good, I like being missed you know,” Tony said in a conspiratorial whisper, though he made direct eye contact with Pepper as he did, prompting her to roll her eyes. “Come on, kid. We’ve got another couple of hours until your Uncle Ben and Aunt May come to pick you up. Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into before then.”

 

“And with that, I’ll take my leave,” Pepper announced, rising from her seat. “I’d hate to be implicated in anything. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Stark?”

 

“Well, I don’t suppose we could discuss you calling me Daddy, can we? Because—”

 

“Have a good day, Mr. Stark,” Pepper cut him off with a sharp look, turning to stride out of his lab without further ado.

 

Tony laughed, which Peter found fascinating. After Pepper turned the corner, he returned his attention to his giggling son, all tension and fears of inadequacy forgotten in the face of his happiness reflected back at him in the child he held in his arms.

 

He had never wanted kids. He hadn’t wanted the responsibility that came with it; and if he were being totally honest, he didn’t want the opportunity to pale in comparison to his father in yet another aspect of his life.

 

But for the first time in his life, he wasn’t constantly worried about the possibility of not living up to his father. He knew that he was a good father, at least better than Howard, because he was here. Spending time with his son and neglecting his company because he liked the way Peter smiled when he held him in his arms.

 

He would trust his company to Obadiah, like he always had, and he would work with Mary to raise Peter to be a better man than him—with less hang-ups and more support.

 

He was born a genius, like his father. Born to create life-changing technology. But unlike Howard, he was also born to be a father, one who was willing to love his son more than his legacy of war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided to turn this into an ongoing story. I’m very open to suggestion, so please let me know if you’d like for this to start of with small snippets of their lives or to be more developed. The plan is for this to Update every Sunday, with the potential for biweekly updates if I get my shit together (your support goes along way here too!). 
> 
> P.S. Just to clarify, in this AU, Mary is Ben’s sister since Richard doesn’t exist. So, May and Ben will still be involved since I love Aunt May.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why—” Mary cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to collect herself. She paced the entryway, Ben and May standing behind her with twin expressions of barely contained amusement, and Tony thought that it was nice that his imminent death was able to bring _someone_ amusement.

 

Mary rounded on him again, eyes narrowed and furious as she was finally able to process what she was seeing. “Why is Peter covered in… what _is_ that Tony?!”  
  
Ben, who Tony could always rely on to see the humor in any situation, burst out laughing as Tony explained. “It’s flour—completely harmless.”

 

“Flour?! It’s—it’s _wet_. And RED!”

 

“It’s festive,” Tony readily supplied, but quickly backtracked when Mary flared her nostrils the way she did when she was particularly pissed at him.  “Okay,” he amended, gaze darting between the angry mother of his child and her chortling brother. “It’s _dyed_ flour mixed with water. Still completely harmless. We were painting.”  
  


Mary’s eyebrows shot up and she looked at him in disbelief. “Painting?  With dyed flour?”

 

Tony shrugged, still holding his brightly colored son against his ruined shirt. “Well, Pepper is usually the one who brainstorms baby-safe activities, but she’s on vacation for the Holidays. So, I did some research on the internet and…”

 

“I think that is such a cute idea,” May interjected, ignoring both her cackling husband and fuming sister-in-law, bypassing them both to gently extricate Peter from Tony’s arms. “It gives him the opportunity to play around and be creative with something that won’t potentially poison him. And best of all—” May held Peter up Lion King-style, making him squeal in delight—“it should wash off pretty easily. So, I’ll leave you to it.”

 

With that, May walked off with Peter in the direction of the bathroom that she had become familiar with over the past four and a half months.  A tense silence followed in her absence.

 

“You knew we were coming to pick him up at four, Tony. You were supposed to have him ready,” Mary finally said, looking a little less pissed, but still unhappy as she frowned at him.

 

Tony nodded, used to her disappointment at this point. “I know, I’m sorry… We just lost track of time. And he was having such a good time—”

 

“He’s four months old, Tony,” Mary said exasperatedly. “Of course, he loved playing around in goo.”

 

“It’s not a big deal if we’re a little late, Mary,” Ben interjected, looking at Tony with sympathy as he finally managed to pull himself together. His sister had always been the high-strung one in the family—a genius in her field, no doubt, and a compassionate and caring woman. But she tended to be so focused on where she was going that she forgot to enjoy the things in the present, which is why Ben would always be mystified by the fact that she had cut loose enough to have a child with Tony Stark out of wedlock, but he wasn’t one to judge or ask questions. Besides, he was a big tech nerd, and Tony Stark _was_ pretty cool, so he was inclined to stick up for the poor guy on occasion. “Mom will understand if Tony took a little extra time with Peter—it _is_ Christmas after all.”

 

Tony tensed at the reminder. It _was_ Christmas—a time when most people decided they cared enough about their families to actually spend time with them. Tony was a little lacking in the family department though. Anyone he considered close enough to even be considered his family were gone: Rhodey was out of the country on military business, Obadiah was vacationing in the Bahamas (like he did every year), Happy was with his family, and Pepper was visiting her family upstate.

 

The only one he had left was Peter, but it had been decided that he would spend his first Christmas with his mother’s family—Mamma Parker, Ben and May, and Mary, of course. Which would leave Tony alone. Again.

 

Normally, this wouldn’t bother him. In years past he would take the unsupervised time to indulge in booze and women and general debauchery even more than he usually did. Anything to distract himself from the fact that he was entirely alone in the world.

 

But he wasn’t alone anymore—he had Peter to look after and love. So spending the Holidays being New York’s most eligible bachelor didn’t quite feel right anymore. He wanted to spend it with his son, the way he had always hoped he could spend _his_ Christmas with _his_ father when he was a child. So it really sucked that he couldn’t do that.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t have him ready, Mary. I really didn’t mean to hold you up. I’ll work on it.”

 

This was another thing he was working on—accountability. It had been a big thing on Mary’s list of adult things he needed to figure out if he were going to be involved in Peter’s life. Which she knew, as evidenced by the way her eyes softened ever so slightly.

 

“Alright, Tony. Please do.”

 

“So,” Ben drawled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he alternated his gaze between his sister and Tony as he tried to change the subject. “Have any big Holiday plans Tony?”

 

Tony liked Ben, he did, but sometimes he asked questions that Tony would rather not answer. “Nothing exciting.”

 

Mary cocked a brow and snorted, well aware of Tony’s reputation considering her personal experience with him. “Really? No wild parties or clandestine encounters planned?”  
  


“Nah,” Tony said, not really feeling up to putting on a show for her. Besides, Mary could believe that Tony still screwed around if she wanted, but he wouldn’t perpetuate it himself. He didn’t particularly care if Mary respected him as a person, but he knew it would make his life a lot easier in the long run where his son was concerned. “I’ll probably just stay home and watch some old Christmas movies. My family tradition.”

 

He had meant it as a joke, but he knew that he had let a little too much of his bitterness leak through when Mary’s gaze turned pitying. She didn’t know much about Tony’s past or his relationship with his father, but she knew enough to piece it together.

 

“But it’s Christmas!” May protested, rounding the corner with a freshly washed and slightly grumpier baby in her arms. “You can’t just stay here alone on Christmas. What about your family?”

 

_You’re taking him with you_ was what he wanted to say, but he settled with a half-hearted shrug. “It’s just me, myself, and I I’m afraid. But don’t feel too bad—I hear that I’m _very_ good company.”

 

“Why don’t you come with us?”

 

Tony’s gazed snapped away from May and Peter to land on Mary, surprise clear on his face. “With you? To your mother’s?”

 

“Well yeah,” Mary said defensively, hands now on her hips as she stared him down. “Why not? Peter should be able to spend his first Christmas with _both of his parents_ , and we shouldn’t let the fact that we’re not together get in the way of that. We’re supposed to be co-parenting, Tony. This is part of it.”

 

Tony listened to her explanation in disbelief—it wasn’t what she was saying exactly. He knew that co-parenting meant working together despite any differences they had; it was something he had become very conscious of since Peter was born as for the first time since his parents died (even longer than that, if he’s being honest) he had to actively care about what someone else thought of his actions. It was that Mary had offered to let him tag along on the pretense of it being for Peter’s sake.

 

She wasn’t obligated to bring him to any family functions, and he knew that realistically, his absence wouldn’t impact Peter at all. Today was just like any other to the four-month-old. Mary was doing this because she felt sorry for him. And normally, someone pitying him was enough to send him in the other direction with a flippant smile and derisive comment. But he was desperate enough to give in to it, just this once.

 

“Okay, sure. Just let me grab my coat.”

 

* * *

 

“Bullshit,” May said, eyes narrowed as she stared Tony down.

 

Tony cocked a brow, smirking at her. “Are you sure about that May?”

 

“Yeah, I am,” the brunette said, suddenly confident as she leaned forward with a smirk of her own. “I call bullshit Tony.”

 

“Dammit,” he sighed, shaking his head and picking up the cards.

 

“Ha!” May whooped, throwing her hands up with a wide smile. “I knew I’d get you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky.”

 

May hummed, her self-satisfied smirk unwavering as she placed down a card.

 

The game continued on for a few more minutes like that, each of them placing down cards but neither one of them calling bullshit. They had been playing this game for about fifteen minutes while Mary, Ben, and Mrs. Parker fawned over Peter in the living room. Mrs. Parker wasn’t the most welcoming of women, and after an awkward dinner and gift exchange, May and Tony came to an unspoken agreement to split off and allow them to have some “family” time.  Never mind that May was definitely family at this point, and Tony was pretty close, all things considered.

 

He didn’t mind though. Uncomfortable family dinners were still better than sitting alone at home as long as Peter was around. If he were honest, he was surprised that he was willing to put up with any of the family stuff that came with having a kid, let alone the diapers and feeding and all of the other unpleasantness. But it was different now that it was his kid; he didn’t even think about it. If Peter needed something, he did it. Without question.

 

If his dad could see him now, he’d probably shit himself. Tony just wished that his mom could have had the chance to meet Peter—to see the man that Tony was for his son.

 

He wasn’t perfect, by any means. He still had his hang-ups and his issues, but he was trying. And that was more than he had done in a long time.

 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” May asked nonchalantly as she placed down a card, forcing Tony’s attention snapped back to the present.

 

“Just about Grandma Parker’s wonderful hospitality. Has she always been so… pleasant?”  
  


“You could say that,” May scoffed. “Ben says she’s never been very warm, but it’s gotten worse since their dad died. She’s just… traditional and doesn’t tolerate much else.”

 

“You mean like me knocking up her daughter without marrying her first?”

 

“And Ben marrying the daughter of Italian immigrants after knowing her for a month. Yeah. But I call bullshit.”

 

Tony cocked a brow and smirked, his practiced response whenever someone called bullshit on him in this game—it just turned out this time that May was wrong. “Oh yeah? Are you su—”

 

“Not about the game, Tony,” May interrupted, leaning in. “About you. I know Mrs. Parker’s backhanded comments don’t get under _your_ skin. But something does.”

 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about May,” Tony said breezily, placing down a card in the hopes that May would pick the game back up.

 

“Of course not.” May rolled her eyes but followed his lead and playing a card. “It was nice of you to come this evening.”

 

“Didn’t really do it to be nice. Just wanted to spend some more time with Pete,” Tony answered, though his teeth grit together. The Parkers were annoyingly persistent and observant, all of them.

 

“I know.” May smiled at him kindly. “You know, when Mary said that you were the father, Ben and I didn’t know what to expect. But it wasn’t this—you actually stepping up and doing it.”

 

Tony met her eyes briefly before shrugging, unsure of what to say to that. “Thanks. But just showing up doesn’t make me father of the year or anything.”

 

“No,” May said, looking at him with eyes that seemed to see everything. “But it’s more than a lot of fathers do. It’s a start.”

 

Tony smiled. “Bullshit.”

 

May reeled back, her eyebrows raised and expression indignant. “Oh re—”

 

“The cards, May.” Tony inclined his head to the card she had just placed. “I’m calling bullshit.”

 

She cracked a smile even as she shook her head and picked up the cards. “Just because you’re right about my cards doesn’t make you right about everything,” she warned with a stern but amused look.

 

“I know,” Tony said. And he did. Or at least, he was beginning to.

 

* * *

 

“How was your Christmas, Mr. Stark?” Pepper breezed into his office the following Monday.

 

“Good,” Tony answered glancing up from the blueprints he was working on to smile at his assistant. “The best I’ve had in years.”

 

“Really?” Pepper asked, raising a slender brow in surprise. “So a night full of questionable activities then?”  
  


“No,” Tony contradicted, leaning back in his chair and throwing his hands wide. “I’m a changed man, Ms. Potts. I’m a _family_ man now—” Pepper scoffed at this, which Tony chose to ignore—“and I spent the holiday with my son and his mother’s family. Which isn’t the most glamorous of evenings, yes, but have you ever seen a four-month-old try to unwrap presents? The _definition_ of entertainment. A lot of drool, a lot of tears, but worth it.”

 

Pepper shook her head but couldn’t hide her smile as she said, “I can imagine. I’m glad you got to spend it with Peter after all.”

 

Tony nodded, returning his attention to his work. Which is why he was surprised when Pepper continued their conversation. “I think he’s been good for you, you know.” When Tony raised his gaze back up to give her a questioning look. “Peter, I mean. You’re not a new man, of course, but you _have_ changed. A little. And if I may say so, I think it’s been for the better.”

 

Tony’s mouth had dropped open at some point during Pepper’s explanation, and he snapped it shut with an audible click. It was unlike her to be so outspoken about his personal life; he was honestly surprised she had even noticed.

 

“Anyway,” she cleared her throat, suddenly looking bashful. “This is your updated schedule for the week. You have a meeting in two hours,” she relayed, handing him a printout of the schedule, as she always did at the beginning of the week.

 

Tony took it without a word, giving Pepper a strange look all the while.

 

After another beat of silence, Pepper released the file and stepped back. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

 

“For now, Ms. Potts,” Tony replied smoothly, giving her his signature smirk as she turned on her heel and strode out of his office.

 

Pepper was probably right—Peter _was_ good for him. While he admittedly missed the freedom that his old life afforded, he couldn’t deny that the responsibility that came with being a father—a _real_ father—made him feel… well something, which was more than he really felt in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know this is a Christmas chapter in October, but I needed a way to highlight the Parker family before shit goes down. So consider this your warning–there will be a significant time jump next chapter to help speed up the pace and make this more interesting. I just really wanted to develop Tony as a father before jumping in. So I hope you like it and will bear with me until next Sunday.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, there's a significant time jump here to get things moving. Hope everyone is prepared for some serious angst.

“Are you excited, Pete?” Tony asked, turning to look at his son, who was strapped into his booster seat and sipping on a juice box.

 

“No,” he answered sullenly, blowing air back into the box just to smash it down. Tony had to suppress a smile, knowing Mary wouldn’t approve of him encouraging his “bad behavior.”

 

“Give me the juice box, Peter,” Mary chastised, turning around from where she sat in the front seat to grab the juice box from him. She turned to Tony with an exasperated look. “He’s been like this all morning. He doesn’t want to go.”

 

“I just want to spend the day with you or Daddy!” Peter responded, crossing his little arms and pouting. “I don’ wanna go to preschool.”

 

“Come on, kid,” Tony encouraged. “It won’t be so bad. You’ll get to make friends and learn cool stuff. And if you learn enough, maybe you’ll even be able to work with me some day.”

 

“Really?!” Peter yelled and Mary turned back to give Tony a reproachful look. “That would be _so cool_.”

 

“His only four, Tony,” Mary reminded him. “He’s way too young to be putting that kind of pressure on him.”  
  


“I’m not putting pressure on the kid,” Tony defended as Peter chattered on about how cool school would be and how he wanted to be like his dad. Tony’s heart warmed at the thought, knowing he didn’t deserve his son or his hero-worship, but grateful all the same. “I’m just _encouraging_ him to go to school. He’ll forget about it by tomorrow.”

 

“No I won’t,” Peter cut in, taking a break to correct him before launching back into telling Happy about how he was going to grow up and be cool like his dad. Happy responded in typical Happy fashion, which meant not at all, but Tony knew he had a soft spot for the kid a mile-wide, though he tried not to show it.

 

A minute later and they were pulling up to the school. Peter had been full of energy and ready to tackle his first day after Tony’s pep talk, at least until Tony helped him out of the car and he face the school for the first time.

 

His small hand gripped Tony’s tighter, and he reached out for Mary’s as well once she rounded the car. Mary smiled down at him before taking his hand and walking forward, guiding both Tony and Peter to the front door.

 

“Alright Peter,” Mary said, crouching down and adjusting Peter’s shirt collar the way she always did when she was nervous. “You’re going to have a great day, okay? It’s just for a few hours, and then I’ll be here to pick you up at noon. Then we’ll do something fun to celebrate your first day. How does that sound?”

 

“Daddy too?” Peter questioned with wide eyes.

 

Mary glanced up at Tony worriedly before returning her gaze to her son. “I think your dad has a meeting today—”

 

“But I’ll reschedule,” Tony reassured, crouching down to give Peter a quick high-five and a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it, kid.”

 

With that, Peter smiled wide and gave his mother one last hug before bounding off into the school.

 

“Well, that didn’t take much,” Tony commented.

 

Mary rolled her eyes and turned to make her way back to where Happy was waiting with the car, Tony following after her. “He looks up to you, Tony. That’s all it ever takes.”  
  


“I know,” Tony acknowledged with a chuckle. “I’m afraid of the day when I’m not his hero anymore.”

 

He said it jokingly, unthinkingly revealing a real fear he had. One he didn’t like to consider. How would Peter feel about his father in ten years, when the glamour of having a “cool dad” wore off and he realize he was just a man who had a past full of skeletons and bad memories?

 

“Then don’t ever stop being his hero,” Mary said easily, climbing into the back seat. Tony doubted that it would be that easy, but it was nice to hope.

 

“Boss, I can dri—” Happy tried to offer, but Tony was quick to cut him off. He only ever rode as a passenger when Peter was in the car, which both Mary and Happy knew.

 

“Sorry, Hap, but you get shot gun.”

 

Happy grumbled to himself, but went to the passenger side as Tony slid into the driver’s seat. “So, you heading to work Mary?” he asked, pulling out of the line of cars.

 

“Oh no,” Mary said, her eyes snapping up to Tony’s in the rearview mirror. “You can drop me back off at home. I took the day off for this. Besides, I still have to sort through some of my mom’s things with Ben. He said he’d come over later to help.”

 

Tony nodded, turning right to head back towards the Parkers’ residence, and he chuckled. “It’s been almost three years, Mary. You guys still haven’t finished going all of her suff?”

 

Mary rolled her eyes, but seemed annoyed as she said. “Ben likes to hold onto things, so it’s like pulling teeth to get him to get rid of anything. She’s been gone for nearly three years and he still wants to cry every time he looks at a teapot that she used when we were kids.”

 

Tony shrugged, eyes focused on the road as he switched lanes a little too closely, making Happy grip the oh-shit-handle even tighter and close his eyes. “Well, it’s understandable. Sentiment is hard to let go of some times.”

 

Mary raised a brow, mouth quirking up in a smirk. “I didn’t peg you for the sentimental sort, Tony Stark.”

 

“Oh, I’m not,” Tony lied, thinking about the boxes full of his mom’s old things from over a decade ago that he had in storage. “But Ben is, so go easy on him, okay?”

 

“I’ll try my best. But speaking of Ben, he wanted me to make sure that you were really okay with watching Peter for me while I’m gone. He said he and May would be more than happy to.”

 

“He’s my son too, Mary,” Tony reminded her, rolling his eyes as he pulled up in front of her house. “I can handle it.”

 

* * *

 

“Don’t forget to make sure he has his blankie—he can’t sleep without it—and he needs to take his multivitamin every day.” Mary was straightening Peter’s collar, fretting over him in Tony’s doorway as he watched on in exasperation.

 

“I know, Mary. It’s not like he’s never stayed the night with me.” Tony rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he was actually offended by her coddling.

 

Mary straightened, looking at Tony with softer eyes. “I know, Tony. It’s just that this will be the longest I’ll go without seeing him, and I… I mean, it’s a whole _week_ Tony. I know you’ll be okay, I just worry. I’m a mom,” she said with a forced laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s what I do.”

 

“I get it,” Tony said, because he did. It was part of you that changed when you had kids—the constant worry and need to be close to them. To make sure they were all right. It was something he was well aware of after four years. “But he’ll be fine. It’s just a week. I’ll keep him safe and happy until you get back. Isn’t that right Pete?” Tony reassured her, swooping down to pick up his giggling son.

 

“Yeah, Dad. We’re gonna have lots of fun!” Peter chortled as Tony tickled his sides.

 

Mary smiled, stepping back and looking resigned. “I know, sweetie. Well, I’m off then. Wish me luck!”

 

“Good luck!” Peter cheered, giving his mom a big wave and wide smile.

 

“Knock ‘em dead, Mary,” Tony encouraged.

 

Mary rolled her eyes. “I’ll do my best. You know how they can be though—change is bad. But hopefully they’ll see the merit in what we’re doing.”  
  


Tony nodded, though he didn’t really understand all of Mary’s issue. In Tony’s line of work, the more change the better. But weapons development was a far different occupation than Mary’s… which Tony wasn’t exactly sure on anyway. It was understood that their work lives weren’t something they talked about, considering Mary’s aversion to Tony’s “Merchant of Death” lifestyle.

 

“Well, I’m sure everything will go fine. And I’ll have Petey here waiting for you when it does.”

 

Mary forced a tight-lipped smile and nodded. She leaned forward to give her son one last kiss on the cheek before heading back out to the car that was waiting to take her to the airport.

 

* * *

 

It was seven hours later, and Peter had just gone to bed for the night and Tony was on his way to his lab to do some late-night tinkering when he got the call.

 

“Rhodey.” Tony smiled as he picked up the call, pushing open the door to his lab. “It’s almost 9. Way past your bedtime. What—?”

 

“You need to turn on your TV, Tony. Channel 9.” Rhodey’s voice was heavy and stern, and it immediately put Tony on edge. Enough so that he immediately did as he said, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV that was set up in the corner of the lab.

 

The first thing he saw was an aerial shot of a smoldering plane.

 

“What is this?” Tony rasped. “Rhodey, what the _fuck_ is this?”  
  


“I’m sorry, Tony,” Rhodey sighed as the words scrolled across the bottom: _U.S. plane crashes in Argentina. Casualties unknown._

 

“No, no, no. That’s not her plane, is it? _Mary_ wasn’t on that plane, Rhodey. _Please just tell me—”_

“I just saw the report, Tony. They haven’t made it public knowledge yet since the families haven’t been informed, but… there were no survivors. I’m so sorry, Tony. I… I’m just so sorry.”

 

Tony crashed into a chair, not even noticing as it rolled back several feet from the force. This couldn’t be happening. Not to him. Not to his _son_.

 

“I… I’ll have to tell Ben and May. _God,_ I have to tell Peter. How am I supposed to do that, Rhodes? How can I tell my son that his mother is dead? How can I—” Tony cut himself off with a gasping sob and buried his head in his hands. Mary was Peter’s _mom_ and now she was gone. Now he was doing this entirely on his own, and he didn’t how to even begin to process his grief and help his son through his and _raise_ him all on his own.

 

This couldn’t be happening.

 

“I’m on my way now, Tony. I’ll be at your place in twenty, and we’ll work through what you need to do together. I’m so sorry man, but you don’t have to go through this on your own. I’ll see you soon.”

 

Tony nodded, not even considering the fact that Rhodey couldn’t see him through the phone, and hung up.

 

He sat there for a long time, unmoving and unsure, waiting for Rhodey to arrive. He wasn’t sure what else he could do at the moment.

 

His parents hadn’t even made it to the airport before they crashed. But Mary had and she was still dead. Now the mother of his son was _dead_.

 

He had been twenty-one when his parents had died. Peter was _four_. How could he tell his son that still watched Dora the Explorer and believed that he’d see his mom next week, his son that had been untouched by death until now, that his mother was gone?

 

He didn’t know. He didn’t even know how to process it himself, so he was grateful when Rhodey appeared in his lab with soothing words and a plan. He barely listened as Rhodey tried to console him, because ultimately words were meaningless and he was more worried about Peter asleep upstairs, oblivious to the fact that his life had just been torn apart.

 

But it was good that Rhodey was here. He knew Rhodey would make sure he didn’t do anything stupid like drink himself into a coma and would force him to do the unpleasant task of giving Mary’s last living relative the news.

 

The anguish in Ben’s voice was nothing like his own, and it almost broke Tony’s heart. Telling someone that their sister was dead was a task he had never thought he would have, and it hurt him to hear someone that he genuinely cared about in so much pain.

 

He couldn’t even fathom how Peter would take it.

 

After the phone call ended, Tony flopped back into the chair, eyes distant as he stared at the phone in his hand, relieved and sad that there was no one else to call. There was no one else that would miss Mary Parker.

 

Tony wondered how many calls would have not be made when he died. Not many.

 

“Tony,” Rhodey’s voice cut through the static, and he snapped back into the present situation. “Listen, worrying about it isn’t going to do anything for you right now. Just… just get some sleep alright? You’ll just need to tell Peter in the morning. There’s no sense in waking him up now. Just give him some more time to…”

 

“To live in a world where his mom isn’t dead?” Tony filled in, his voice coming out less snarky than he had intended. His tone was empty, hollow just like the feeling in his chest.

 

“Yeah,” Rhodey said, grabbing Tony’s shoulder and pulling him out of the chair. “But I mean it Tony. You guys aren’t in this alone. You’ve got me, Pepper, Happy, Obi. We’ll help you through this. Together.”

 

Tony nodded as he stumbled his way up the stairs to his bed, though he didn’t _feel_ like he was anything but alone.

 

It was just him and Peter now, and no pretty words or good intentions would change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just want to let all of you know that I really appreciate your response to this fic. I usually don't update weekly, but your comments have kept me motivated! I don't respond to everyone's comments because I don't want to be annoying or inflate my comments numbers, but I will try to respond to everyone's questions. Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

The next day was… hard, to say the least. Telling his son that his mother is dead was never something that Tony had expected to do, but there he was. Stumbling through it in the way that he normally breezed his way through everything else—like it was the only thing he _could_ do.

 

Peter was too young to remember when his grandmother had passed away, and they had subsequently never had to have the “death talk.” They hadn’t expected that it would be necessary after all. Tony was a billionaire that had (for the most part) given up all of his risky behaviors and spent his days building things; Mary was a scientist that spent her time holed up in her lab. They had no reason to think that they would ever been taken from their son like this. That this would be an eventuality that they would have to preparetheir _four-year-old_ son for.

 

But Tony should have seen it coming, right? His parents—a genius inventor just like himself and his debutante wife—had died too. In a terribly similar way at that. A car crash on the way to an airport. A plane crash on the way to a business meeting. Tony attracted disaster, and the ones closest to him seemed to pay. And here he was—untouched. Completely fine and now the sole caretaker of his poor, mother-less son.

 

It should have been him, if he was being honest. Mary would have known how to help Peter through this. She would have been able to find a way to tell him that his father died without him going into hysterics and crying himself to sleep after five hours of catatonic behavior. She would take care of him better—she did most of it anyway. The cooking healthy meals, the doctor’s appointments, the schoolwork and PTA meetings, everything. She was a better parent than him and Tony had always known that, had been _comfortable_ with that because he never thought it would matter. Had never even believed that one day he would have to do this alone. He wasn’t ready for this—he _couldn’t do th_ —

 

“I hope you’re not blaming yourself, Tony. It’s not your fault and it’s not exactly productive to thinks so either, is it?”  
  


Tony’s head snapped up from where he had been resting it against his closed fist and he was immediately relieved to see that it was just Pepper. And also immediately hesitant because it was Pepper. In his living room. While he was three miles deep into his self-loathing, a glass of scotch in his hand and tear stains on his cheeks while his son slept upstairs. And she was looking at him like _that._ With pity and understanding and none of the disappointment or disgust that he knew should have been on her face.

 

“How did you get in my house exactly?” he finally asked, taking one last swig from his drink and placing the now empty glass back down on the table with a clatter. “I don’t remember calling you in. It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”

 

“I have a key, Tony. And I’m not here as your employee. I’m here as a friend.”

  
He should have guessed that—Pepper looked more… _casual_ than he had ever seen her with her long strawberry blonde hair slightly damp and falling down her back. She was also wearing a t-shirt and yoga pants with a pair of beat-up sneakers—a far cry from her normal pristine business attire. Pepper was always professional, always calm and collected, but now her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and he was reminded that she and Mary were always friendly with one another. He wondered how she had found out.

 

“Rhodey called you?”

 

Pepper nodded, eyes darting around the room as she moved closer. He wondered what she saw—her playboy boss sitting alone in a chair, hair unkempt, grease-stained clothes disheveled, booze in-hand while he left his son to sleep through his pain alone. The room was as immaculate as it always was thanks to the maids who maintained it and the fact that most of Tony’s time was spent in his lab or his son’s play room. But there was a certain emptiness in the bright white walls that hadn’t been there twenty-four hours ago. In the four years since his son’s birth, Tony’s home had become a place of warmth. One filled with the laughter and happiness that came with a family.

 

None of that was there now.

 

“He did. He said you could use a friend, so here I am.”

 

“A friend? Is that what we are Pepper? I think you’re smart enough to know better than to make friends with someone like me.” Tony went to take another pull from his scotch, remembered it was empty, and left it on the table. His hand dangled halfway to the table and his eyes were glazed as he stared at it, craving another but knowing he shouldn’t indulge in it.

 

“Maybe, but I’m also smart enough to know that you don’t get to choose who you care for.” She crouched next to him, trying to draw his eyes as she grabbed the glass off of the table. “How many is this, Tony?”

 

“Just the one,” he answered, finally dragging his dazed eyes from the promise of alcohol to the concerned blue gaze of his assistant. She’d always had lovely eyes, but they’d never looked at him like _that_ before. Like he was deserving of her compassion. He craved it and hated it at the same time. “Peter’s still here, so.”

 

Pepper nodded, her lips quirking up just a bit at the corner. “That’s good, Tony. How is he?”

 

Tony flopped back in his chair with a sigh, a hand coming up to run through his hair. “Bad. I mean, he’s _okay_. He’s eating and everything but… I don’t know what to say to him, Pepper. I don’t know how to help him. I just… I can’t be there for him the way he needs, I think.”

 

“What are you saying, Tony?” Pepper was still crouching next to him, leaning against the arm of his chair as she frowned up at him with that awful _understanding_ in her eyes. As though she already knew what he meant and supported him anyway. “Do you think that you can’t take care of him? Do you want to consider other options?”

 

Tony blinked at her, the last of the haze leaving his eyes as he tilted his head. “What other options are there, Pep? He’s my son.”

 

“Ben and May,” Pepper said it as though it were obvious, and maybe it was to anyone else but him. “They would take him in and you know that. They would be good parents too. And you could keep on like you have been. You do have options, Tony.”

 

He considered it for all of a second before shaking his head. “He’s _my_ son, Pepper. I’m not just shoving him off on May and Ben. This is a tough beat, yeah, but I’m not just giving up on him. What kind of father would that make me? I’ll get full custody, he’ll move in with me full-time, and we’ll figure it out as we go. That’s the _only_ option.”

 

“Good,” Pepper said with a nod, tone shifting into the one she used in the office as she stood up and took the glass to the kitchen. “We’ll need to get in touch with a lawyer first thing in the morning to go through everything you need to do. It’s best to cover all of our bases. And we should call Ben—he’ll be making the funeral arrangements, and we should offer to help. Financially and otherwise. And after that… I think you’re right. All you can do is your best, and everything will fall into place.”

 

Tony was still reeling from the switch from compassionate Pepper to business Pepper by the end of her speech, but it was almost a welcome change. He needed friends, yes, but he also needed someone to give him a direction and kick his ass into gear. Pepper had always been the best at that.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony said, unsure of why he felt the need to but going with it all the same. “I should have been the one to tell you. Not Rhodey.”

 

“It wasn’t your job to tell everyone, Tony,” Pepper said, walking back out of his kitchen with a bottle of water and some crackers that she handed to him, somehow sensing that Tony hadn’t eaten all day. “You had other things to worry about—namely, your son. Who you should go check on after you eat something.”

 

“Right,” Tony exhaled, feeling like a weight had lifted from his shoulders now that they had finally come to a concrete decision, but there were always more burdens to follow. “Now I just have to figure out how to help my son through his mother’s death. How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

 

Pepper smiled at him then, and it made his chest hurt more than it already did. It was sad, and small, but filled with a tenderness that Tony knew he didn’t deserve. “I think you, more than anyone, can relate to what he’s going through Tony. Just say to him what you wish someone had said to you ten years ago.”

 

For the first time that day, Tony smiled too. His heart still felt like it was being ripped out of his chest at the thought of what Peter was going through—because he _did_ know what it was like and would have never wished that upon his son—but he was glad all the same. Because Pepper understood him, and she understood what he needed and what he should do before he even did. Maybe Tony wasn’t as alone as he thought after all. He suspected that between Pepper and Rhodey and Happy he would never have the chance to truly feel alone and that maybe, just maybe, they would all find a way to get through this.

 

“I think I can do that.”

 

* * *

 

“Straight to the church, Mr. Stark?” Happy asked from the driver’s seat as he buckled his son into his booster seat.

 

“Yeah,” Tony replied, giving the buckles one last tug before resting his hand on his son’s cheek and giving him a weak smile that he barely returned. “To the church will be fine. Pepper and Rhodey are already on their way there.”

 

Happy didn’t say anything else before pulling out into the busy traffic of New York. Peter watched out the window silently, nothing at all like his normal, chattering self and it broke Tony’s heart.

 

“Do you still have that drawing you wanted to give to your mom, Pete?” Tony asked, simply to fill the silence. He knew that the little crayon drawing of his family—Mary, Tony, and Peter—all standing in front of Stark Tower was safely folded up and tucked into the inside pocket of Peter’s suit jacket. He had insisted on carrying it himself.

 

Peter nodded, not saying anything. The reaction that Tony had come to expect in the past four days.

 

He sighed, reaching forward to straighten Peter’s little red tie—his mother’s favorite color—the way that Mary would have if she were there. Though if Mary were there, the three of them wouldn’t be dressed in their best suits on their way to a funeral. Peter would be in school, happily chatting with his friends about whatever four-year-olds talked about and Tony would be at work, designing a weapon that could take out America’s enemies in Afghanistan before they could even fire a weapon. Mary would _be there_.

 

They would be happy, untouched by the tragedy that had befallen them. But that wasn’t how life worked—you couldn’t simply wish someone back into existence or pray and have time reverse to a happier one. Tony knew _that_ better than anyone. He had tried for years. He would make sure his son didn’t waste his life doing the same.

 

“I love you, Peter,” Tony said, his voice hushed and low in an effort to keep his emotions at bay. “More than anything, okay?”

 

Peter finally turned to face him, brown eyes dark and sad. “I love you too, Dad.”

 

Tony smiled, patting his cheek one last time before moving back to sit fully in his seat. They didn’t say anything else before they reached the church.

 

“What are you doing?” Tony asked when Happy pulled up to let Tony and Peter out at the front doors.

 

“Uh… Letting you out of the car?” Happy responded, turning back to face his boss with a look of confusion as cars started honking at them from behind.

 

“You’re coming in too, right? You and Mary were friends. Come on, park the car and we’ll walk in together. We need all hands on deck for this.”

 

Happy stared, mouth gaping open in shock for another moment before a particularly angry shout seemed to break him out of it and he turned back around to do what Tony said, but not before yelling out the window about “children being present, so watch your fuckin’ mouth.” Tony saw Peter smiling out of the corner of his eye, and it made it worth it if nothing else.

 

It was something he was working on—as he _always_ seemed to be working on things these days. Recognizing the way things affect others as well as himself. Mary may have been the mother of his child, but she was a lot more than that. She was a genuinely kind and caring person. A little cold and strict at times, but the kind of person you could always rely on. The kind of person that made others feel special just by being in the same room as her. He saw a lot of those same qualities in Peter and hoped that those that knew Mary best would help him carry her memory on and allow that bright, happy light that always shown in his son’s eyes to grow.

 

But Mary was more than a mother and more than a scientist and more than Tony could ever hope to be. Recognizing that was an important part of keeping her memory alive. And Tony knew he would need his friends in the coming months (years, if he was being realistic), and he wanted to do what he could to support them now.

 

Ten minutes later, they entered the funeral to find it packed, something that made Tony sigh a little in relief. Mary didn’t have much family left—just Peter, Ben, and May—and as far as he knew, not that many close friends. So seeing so many people come to show their respects was nice, and he hoped that it would help remind Peter that his mother was loved.

 

They moved down the aisle, past all of the talking strangers with the watchful eyes, Happy on Tony’s left and Peter clutched tightly in his arms, propped up on his right hip. He saw Rhodey and Pepper waiting in the front row with May and Ben and inclined his head a bit in greeting, prompting Ben to get up to meet them halfway.

 

“Who are all of these people, Dad?” Peter asked from where he was clutching at Tony’s arm, voice hushed but still full of awe.

 

“They’re your mom’s friends. They’ve all come to say goodbye, just like us.”

 

“Woah,” Peter whispered with more feeling than he had expressed in several days. “Mom had a lot of friends, huh?”

 

“Yeah, Pete. Your mom was an amazing person. A lot of people loved her.”

 

“Good,” Peter said decisively with a stern nod that he must have learned from Pepper, causing Tony to chuckle a little _too_ much as Ben came to a stop in front of them.

 

“Hey guys,” Ben greeted with a small smile and sad eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

 

Tony nodded, clapping Ben on the shoulder as they continued up the aisle. “Of course.”

 

Ben chatted with Peter a bit, which Tony was grateful for. Ben always had a way of pulling Peter out of his tantrums and it was good to see him working that magic now, getting his son to laugh for the first time in a few days. It gave him hope that things would get better after all. It would take time, of course, but they would all get there.

 

The funeral started not long after they sat down, and Tony tried his best to stay focused on the here and now and not drift off into what-could-have-beens as they talked about Mary and the life that she had lived. He stayed silent through the whole funeral and the burial that followed, surrounded by what was left of his little family—Peter, May, Ben, Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy—and was grateful that he at least still had them.

 

The two hours that they spent dedicated to Mary Parker seemed to fly by in a haze of kind words and tears, and Tony held onto his son the entire time, ignoring the numbness that had long ago seeped into his arms. They were on their way back to the long line of cars after the burial, heading to the visitation that would finally end this day of forced smiles and thank-you’s to people he didn’t know when he was stopped by another well-wisher.

 

“Excuse me. You must be Tony Stark.”

 

Tony turned with tired eyes and a dozing son held in his arms to find a tall, dark-skinned man with an eyepatch and a black trench coat walking toward him with a woman with short cropped brown hair at his side, and Tony had to wonder if he was hallucinating due to a lack of sleep.

 

“I am. And you are…?”  
  


“A friend of Ms. Parker’s. We won’t be able to make it to the visitation, but we wanted to extend our sincerest condolences for your loss. If there’s ever anything you or your son need, please let us know.”

 

Tony forced another smile, entirely for his son’s sake, and nodded. Though he couldn’t keep the slight bite out of his tone when he said, “Thank you, but I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Though, considering you haven’t told me who you are, I don’t see how we could possibly do that anyway.”

 

“Don’t worry. We’ll be in touch,” was all the man said, smirking at Tony and patting him on the shoulder as he passed, the woman completely silent and equally smug at his side.

 

Tony stared for a moment before being shaking his head and continuing on his way to the waiting car, praying for the next four hours to pass by quickly so he could take his son home and get some much-needed rest.

 

“Daddy?” Peter asked, voice thick with sleep as he lifted his head off of his shoulder. “Can we stop for ice cream on the way?”

 

“Sure, kid,” Tony agreed immediately, placing a swift kiss to Peter’s forehead that made him swat at him in embarrassment. It was nice, almost normal, and he would cling to that as best he could to pull them out of this disaster intact. “Whatever you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so sorry I missed a week. Last week was incredibly busy and then I was sick all this week (honestly still not feeling great but I'm pulling through). This is the longest chapter yet though, so I hope that makes up for it a bit! I know this was another sad chapter, but there will be another time jump next chapter so things should start to look up. You know... Until Iron Man 1 starts and Tony disappears. So there's still that to look forward to! 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading. You guys are the best for sticking this out with me.


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